


Around the Campfire

by The_Exile



Category: Ultima (Video Games)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Campfires, Drunkenness, Ducks, Gen, Reminiscing, Spoilers, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 14:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19427632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Exile/pseuds/The_Exile
Summary: Iolo is chronicling everyone's stories. Shamino doesn't want to talk about his past, whereas Dupre is loudly and drunkenly talking about his own. The Ranger has a change of heart, though.





	Around the Campfire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FireEye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/gifts).



> set during Ultima 4 which is the only one I've played at any length, but I looked up the details of the previous games on the wiki. I hope I characterised them well.

Shamino alone remained sober as his companions rather rapidly went through another bottle of rum, filling the night with loudly narrated tales of Dupre's bravado while Iolo composed impromptu ballads to accompany the stories. 

"Honestly, they'd forget what a Paladin was if it weren't for my clear and accurate retelling of events," complained the inebriated Paladin, "Don't forget to add the bit about the duck."

"I believe Mariah has already had words with you about your... creative versions of events," pointed out Shamino. He didn't look up from the dagger he was polishing. His head hurt from the noise and he was beginning to wish he'd insisted more urgently that he would go on tonight's foraging expedition instead of the others. The forest was the best place for silent contemplation and more importantly for forgetting. Forgetting his own past, the world around him, anything complicated.

The Bard's insistence on collecting stories of their past adventures, so that he could immortalise them all in the Codex he was currently writing, was bringing back only painful memories. 

Still, Iolo was right, as usual. Their deeds needed to be remembered. Especially the importance of their virtues. Cautionary tales and bad examples included. 

Rum couldn't be that unvirtuous really, decided Shamino, or it wouldn't be called 'spirits'. Besides, it would help him think more compassionately and be more generous towards his friends. Iolo swore it would do him some good one day, that it might bring light to whatever clouded his soul, that even magic and music couldn't heal.

Clapping his hands and standing up, Shamino walked forward, grabbed the bottle and took a great swig before announcing, "Let me tell you what was happening before any of you even came to Britannia. Let me tell you of my meeting with Lord British himself..."


End file.
